Personal Space: It's Overrated
by IndigoC
Summary: For a long time, Castiel's wondered why, despite Dean Winchester's emphasis in the past on the importance of personal space, no longer seems concerned about it, always being close to the angel with lots of physical contact. After years of biting his tongue, Cas finally finds the courage to ask Dean about it...after being injured on a hunt and given lots of painkillers, that is.


Castiel was confused.

At least, when it came to Dean Winchester and his…'personal space'.

Ever since he had liberated the human from his prison in Hell, Castiel had been trying to understand him: what he did and why, the things he said, what was important to him, everything. And in relation to that, he felt the need to be physically close to Dean. But the hunter had made it very clear early on that he needed this thing he called 'personal space'. He had informed Cas of it many times, lectured him about it, reminded him again and again, so on and so forth. At least, in the beginning.

Now, Castiel had noticed what he assumed would be considered a "contradiction" of sorts. One minute, Dean was complaining about Cas being too close and "invading his personal bubble", and the next…Dean seemed to be exhibiting this behavior himself. Perhaps it was to show Cas what it was like to be on the receiving end, in retaliation for all the times the angel was uncomfortably close to his human friend. But unlike Dean, Cas never minded the closeness; he liked it. But it didn't stop the behavior from confusing him.

Cas remembered showing up in the bathroom right behind Dean and him being annoyed at how close he was standing, and several other instances like that. But then he remembered more recent events, such as Dean adjusting Cas's collar and tie before talking to that policeman, all the times he put a hand on his shoulder, or an arm around his shoulders, or when he hugged him so tightly in Purgatory. Not to mention the time Dean practically sat on Castiel's lap in the diner when he met with Isham. For someone who used to emphasize his need for space and dislike for closeness, Dean didn't seem to have an issue invading Cas's 'personal bubble.' Again, not that Cas ever minded.

But it still left Castiel pondering the reasons behind this behavior. If nothing else, he was just curious. Humans often left his mind full of questions, and every time he seemed to understand them better, something else came up that confused him all over again. Was this what humans considered to be hypocritical behavior? The angel struggled a lot with concepts like sarcasm and analogies, so how would he know a hypocrite if he saw one?

Cas really wanted to ask Dean about it, but every time he was about to, he ended up deciding against it at the last second. His biggest fear was being a burden to the Winchesters, any of them, and he was afraid Dean would just get annoyed or be offended somehow. And he certainly didn't want his bringing it up to cause Dean to feel self-conscious about it and start avoiding Cas. So, just to be safe, he kept it to himself.

Until one day when, due to unusual circumstances, he lacked the self-control to stop himself again.

 _48 hours earlier_

The hunt was, at first, shaping up to be pretty standard and uneventful. Violent unidentified animal attacks, signs of possible werewolf activity, the whole nine yards. They had arrived at a remote cabin where some of the tracks led and split up, Dean and Castiel checking inside while Sam investigated the shed out back. At first glance, the place seemed completely deserted.

"Nah, they ain't here" Dean commented, shining his flashlight around for the hundredth time. "Doesn't explain why there aren't any tracks leaving this place. Maybe Sam had more luck. Let's check on him. You find anything?"

Cas shook his head. "No, but I still feel something is near. A presence of some kind. Maybe-"

At that moment, there was the horrible sound of splitting wood as something tore through the floorboards right under Cas's feet, latched onto his legs, and pulled him down through the hole, leaving Cas no time to react. Dean turned his flashlight towards him just in time to see him disappear.

"CAS!"

Cas hit the ground hard, his head snapping back and cracking against the unfinished concrete flooring. Apparently, there was a hidden basement in the cabin. Stars swam in his vision, which was already impaired by the sudden darkness. The only saving grace was a small amount of light coming from the hole in the floor above him. As his eyes adjusted, Cas started to make out a shape in front of him. A huge, hulking black shape with fiery red eyes. His first thought was hellhound, but unfortunately, this creature was much bigger. And it certainly wasn't any werewolf. It approached him slowly and Cas was now able to see the enormous fangs protruding from it mouth. It let out an odd sound, like a mix between a low-pitched growl and a high-pitched moan, sending chills down his spine.

Cas winced from the pain in his head and right leg but kept his focus on the creature, trying to figure what it was while pushing himself backwards as it advanced. During the fall, his angel blade had come loose from his sleeve and clattered a few feet away, so Cas tried to move closer to it as discreetly as possible.

The moment it finally occurred to him what the creature actually was, it lunged forward, jaws open and ready to latch down on him. Cas managed to reach over and grab his weapon at the last second, bringing it in front of him just in time as the creature chomped down on the blade instead of his neck. The creature wasn't only huge but incredibly strong, and Cas struggled to keep it from overwhelming him…but he was slowly losing the fight. The head injury was starting make his vision blur and the huge dog had one of its enormous paws crushing down on his wounded leg, intensifying the pain exponentially. Cas was starting to fear the worst was inevitable.

But in that moment, there was a loud 'thud' behind them and the sound of gunfire. The creature whipped its head around to face its attacker. Dean kept the gun raised and fired several more times, but to no effect. As the monster approached him, seemingly unphased by the silver bullets in its hide, Dean lowered the gun slightly and started to retreat, a look of confusion on his dirt-covered face.

"What the hell, Cas!? Silver has no effect on this thing!"

"That's because it's a Barghest!" Cas shouted back.

"A _what_!?"

"Barghest! Evil spirit! You need iron!"

Dean continued to retreat from the huge dog until his back came up against a wall. "Great. I think I left my iron in my other pants."

It finally lunged for him and Dean rolled to the side to avoid being mauled to death. Scrambling to his feet again, he tried to run but ended up tripping over a pile of junk in the middle of the floor, which included a set of old fireplace tools. He cursed loudly before spotting a poker amongst the mess and immediately grabbed it. He turned over just as the creature came down on top of him and was able to impale it through the heart with the poker at the last second. With one last unearthly groan, the crimson glow behind the Barghest's eyes faded before the entire creature dissipated into a cloud of black smoke.

Eyes wide, Dean examined the tool in his hands. "Huh. Iron. Thank Chuck for small favors."

Relieved that Dean was alright, Cas dropped back on the ground with a sigh, screwing his eyes shut against the pain. Damn his weakened grace and slow healing abilities. He was only aware of Dean's presence next to him when he heard the hunter's voice right above his head, sharp with urgency.

"Cas, hey! You alright? Say something."

Cas felt hands gently gripping his shoulders. He opened his eyes slowly to Dean's upside down face barely a foot from his own. Dean was kneeling on the ground behind his head, peering anxiously at him with narrowed eyes. He was _very_ close.

The hunter placed one of his hands on the side of Cas's face and gently turned his head. "Damn, that's a ton of blood. I know head wounds tend to bleed a lot, but _shit_. How much does this hurt?"

Cas groaned before answering, pinching his eyes shut again. "Enough. More than my leg does, anyway."

Dean looked up to where Cas's legs where sprawled out on the ground, a pool of blood forming under his right calf. "Fuck, I didn't even see that. You're definitely not _walking_ out of here, that's for sure." Then he cast his eyes up at the ceiling. "And we ain't leaving the way we came in without some help, either. I hope Sammy comes back soon. There wouldn't be more of those things around, would they? I mean, these fuckers aren't pack animals, right?"

"No, they are solitary entities" Cas said weakly. "Pretty rare, too. This one was a rogue manifestation, that's why it started killing humans."

Dean looked back down at Cas and frowned. "You sound like you're really hurtin'. You want to sit up or do you think that'd make it worse?"

Cas forced his eyes open again. "No, I-I'd like to sit up. The ground is very uncomfortable, and cold."

"Should you even be able to feel cold? That can't be normal."

"It is when I'm injured, and with my grace the way it is."

Without another comment, Dean carefully eased Castiel into a sitting position, keeping a firm grip on his shoulders. He laid a hand against the back of Cas's neck and hissed. "Shit, you _are_ cold. Angel or not, you'll get hypothermia if Sam doesn't get here soon."

"I'll be alright."

"Yeah, sure. You tend to say that a lot" Dean murmured before tearing off one of his sleeves and gently wrapping it around Cas's head like a bandanna. The angel winced at the pressure against his wound.

"Sorry" Dean said quietly as he tied the sleeve in place. Then, Cas felt Dean's arms slide around him from behind and grip him tightly, bringing his back flush against the hunter's chest.

The confusion returned with a vengeance. What happened to 'personal space'? "Dean…w-what are doing?"

Dean hugged him a little tighter, resting his cheek against the side of Cas's head while rubbing his hand up and down the angel's arm. "Trying to keep you warm. Between the blood loss and this damn concrete, you'll freeze to death. Don't make it weird, man."

But to Castiel, the only thing 'weird' thing about it was the fact that he figured Dean would sooner jump off a cliff than do what he was doing at that very moment. The closeness did help, and Cas already started to feel better with his friend's warm body pressed firmly against his own, but the action kept him teetering on the edge of finally asking Dean about all of it. And that's where he stayed through the entire process: when Sam finally found them and helped them out of the basement, when they carefully loaded him into the back of the Impala and drove to the nearest motel, and after they had checked in and situated themselves in the room.

Sam called dibs on the shower while Dean went to work with the first aid kit, positioning Castiel on one of the beds so that he was sitting up against the headboard with his legs stretched out in front of him. He had given Cas some kind of strong pain killer, and lots of it, when the angel commented on the growing pressure behind his eyes and the intense throbbing in his skull. He kept his eyes closed as Dean removed the blood-soaked sleeve from his head, stitched the wound carefully, and replaced the bandage with fresh gauze. Cas wasn't healing fast enough to just leave the injuries unattended. The pills Dean had given him were really starting to take effect when his friend sat at the foot of the bed and addressed the gashes on his leg. He cut away the bloody pant leg at the knee and was starting to clean the wounds as gingerly as possible. Cas sat still and watched him, but his brain was starting to fog over and his usual control when it came to keeping his mouth shut quickly faded away.

He blinked slowly. "Dean."

Dean didn't look up. "What's up? Trying to be careful as I can here. Those pain killers helping at all?"

"Yes. Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, as long as you keep still. Hit me."

"I said I wanted to ask a question, not physically assault you."

Dean rolled his eyes. "It's an expression, Cas. Just an expression. What's the question?"

"Why do you say one thing and do another?"

At that, Dean looked up, his face unreadable. "I'm sorry…what?"

"I've been wondering for a while" Castiel continued. "You used to tell me that I didn't respect your personal space, that I stood too close to you, and things like that. You used to get mad about it, correct me all the time, remind me, and so on. But now, you stand very close to me sometimes, just like I used to. You often sit very close to me, too. You put your hands on my shoulder, on my face, and you even hug me. I thought you didn't like it when I hugged you. You always seemed uncomfortable, tense even. So…I am confused. My question is…why? What does it all mean?"

With each word out of Cas's mouth, Dean's face grew increasingly redder. It wasn't as much the fact that it was all true, but the fact of what it sounded like said _out loud_. It was the very reason Castiel had chosen again and again to keep it to himself. But now, with the intense pain killers impairing his mind, he had finally brought it up. His impairment even kept him from fearing Dean's reaction.

Awkwardness hung in the air like a thick cloud of smoke. Dean cleared his throat a couple of times, completely distracted from the task at hand. After a long minute of silence, Dean slowly turned back to his work and began wrapping the gauze around Cas's leg in slow motion. The fact that Dean was physically touching his friend at the same moment he decided to drop that bombshell of a question on him made it all the more uncomfortable. Cas continued to stare at him, patiently awaiting an answer as the hunter deliberately kept his own eyes averted.

"Hm. Okay. Well…." Dean started, cursing in his mind for stumbling over his words so lamely. He had always been bad at talking about things like this, and this question had to be the queen mother of it all. "Geez, pal. I don't know. I haven't really thought about it."

"I have."

Dean sighed heavily. There was no worming out of this, he could tell. "Okay. Um…I guess things are just…different now, you know?"

Castiel tilted his head like he often did when something didn't make sense to him. "Different?"

Dean leaned back in the chair, temporarily pausing in the first aid process. "Look, Cas. When we first met, I didn't know you. Like, at all. Not to mention, knowing that your body wasn't even yours but some other guy's and you were just using it was just…weird. It was super weird, and completely new to me. So yeah, you showing up out of nowhere sometimes, standing like three inches from my face, was awkward as shit, not to mention I've never really been the touchy feely, physical contact kind of guy, which you well know. Not in general, anyway."

He stopped for a second, then finally looked over and stared at Castiel intently, green eyes locking with blue. "But that was then, and this is now. You…you're not a stranger anymore. You're not some inhuman being that we don't understand. You're…family. I've told you that before, Cas, it's nothing new. Being close to you…it doesn't feel awkward at all. _Talking_ about it is really fucking awkward, cause it's not something guys _talk_ about, but…it's not strange to me. Like I said, I don't even really think about it. When I make a point or I'm trying to comfort you, I pat you on the shoulder. When you're hurt, I try to see if you're okay. When I see you after a long ass time, I give you a hug. And in the cellar, I was trying to keep you warm. And Jesus, this sounds so _fucking weird_ when I say it out loud." He frowned. "Cas…does it make you uncomfortable when _I'm_ close to _you_?"

The angel shook his head, and immediately regretted it as his vision swam again. Dean smirked. "Okay then. So there's nothing really to talk about. But…I'm sorry if you were confused, I guess. What exactly did you think was the reason?"

Cas blinked at him. "Honestly, I thought were getting back at me."

Dean threw back his head and laughed loudly. "Son of a bitch, are you _serious_? Get back at you? C'mon, buddy. That's crazy."

But Castiel, who had seriously been wondering about all of this for a long time, keeping it himself, not saying anything despite the confusion and the doubt, was rather hurt by Dean laughing at him, especially since this is what he truly believed all this time. The spent angel cast his eyes downward, his shoulders visibly sagging, and Dean immediately picked up on it. The hunter raised an eyebrow. "Cas?"

Cas kept his eyes down. "I'm sorry I asked, Dean. I believe it's the pills. I wasn't thinking straight. I just…'made it weird'." He finished the last part make quote gestures with his hands.

Now Dean felt like shit. Obviously, this had bothered the angel a lot and he never had the courage to bring it up. Laughing at his rationale was stupid, even if Cas's reasoning was ridiculous. The hunter scooted his chair closer to the top of the bed and reached out, changing his mind at the last second and resting it on the covers next to Cas. Thank Chuck for Sam's insanely long showers.

"Hey" he started, keeping his voice low. "Listen to me. I figure you've been sitting on this for a long time and never brought it up…because of me. I know that's my fault. Me and feelings, man…it's never been my forte. Sam can back me up on that one. Hell, so can you. But I want you know that it's okay. If something's digging at ya, just say it, no matter what it is. You've kept things to yourself before, and we all know how _that_ ended. So don't. Don't let my issues on dealing with personal shit stop you. That's not fair to you. And don't wait for a round of strong pain killers to loosen your tongue either, cause God knows I won't let _that_ be a thing. So, you promise me that, and I promise I won't laugh at anything you say. Deal?"

Castiel looked at him with genuine discomfort. "I don't like making deals, they always turn out wrong."

Dean barely managed to stifle a bark of laughter. "Right. Well…this is different. You and I can make a deal without things going south. We're family. Okay?"

Cas managed a small smile. "Okay. Then it's a deal."

"Good." Smiling, Dean reached up and placed a hand on Cas's cheek, his fingers gently cradling the side of his jaw. The angel's face reddened at the contact, but at least the action no longer made his brain swim with questions. "So, you feel better about it?"

Cas smiled bigger this time and brought up his own hand to rest on Dean's forearm. "Much better. Thank you, Dean."

Dean affectionately patted Cas's cheek before removing his hand. "No sweat, pal. Now let me finish with this bandage in peace, will ya?"

And at that moment, Sam finally came out of the bathroom, having missed the entire thing.

The next morning, they checked to find that Castiel's wounds were almost completely healed, so they decided it was time to head back to the bunker. As Sam and Dean were packing the Impala, Cas stood in the soft, early morning sunrays and closed his eyes blissfully, enjoying the natural warmth. It was Heaven sent, especially after being in that basement on the cold concrete floor…minus when Dean had his arms around him, that is. The sunlight felt like that: warm, comfortable, and just plain…nice.

Dean's voice broke through his thoughts. "Cas, you okay? Head still bothering you?"

Castiel opened his eyes and stared at Dean, who was standing very close to him again. "No, I am fine. Just enjoying the sun."

Dean smiled, lining up their shoulders and wrapping an arm around Cas's neck, pulling him closer so that their heads were touching. "That's good. You had me worried."

They both walked to the car, Dean keeping his arm around Cas with their shoulders pressed together. Cas wanted to say something, stopped himself, and then said in anyway in light of their new deal. "So Dean," he started, turning his head to look as his friend, "what about your personal space?"

Dean turned to look back him, their faces only inches apart. "Personal space? Eh, it's overrated."


End file.
